Day 3: alternative arrangements

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 Plan B. 

My decision to spend the night wild camping on the shore of the Atlantic was perhaps misguided. 

Stunning though it was, the wind was brutal. Kudos to my tent which held up to the task. 




Checking the ferry website, I realised that the ferry I needed to catch to Skye didn’t run on Wednesdays. I’m a day ahead, if you remember. 

However, another ferry was running from Lochmaddy, and that meant riding south, with the - still 40mph - wind behind me. Plus it meant an 8:30 alarm as opposed to a 6:30 alarm. I didn’t need telling twice. 

The ride to Lochmaddy was fast and scenic. The ferocious tailwind meant that I found myself riding uphill faster than I’d ridden down the same hill yesterday evening. That’s more like it. 



I was early for the ferry so stopped at another museum / cafe for a second breakfast, since - nice as rehydrated porridge is - it’s no sausage & egg bap. Again, I cannot tell you the subject matter of the museum but I’m sure it’s excellent. It also seemed to double up (triple up?) as the village post office. 

With the minimum of faff, my tickets were exchanged and refunded and I made my way towards the ferry. A lovely man in hi-viz told me to go on board so I started off, pushing my bike. The same lovely man then shouted reasonably aggressively to stop. It’s not the first time I’d misunderstood the local dialect, maybe I should stick to France. 

One more downpour later, I was boarding and we soon set off for Skye. 

The 90 minute journey offered me with a chance to catch up 3 nights of broken sleep. The next thing I knew we had arrived at Uig and it was time to pedal again. My journey took me south, with a heavy rain shower in the clouds behind me and another one in front, I made good use of the tailwind and sped towards Portree. 




Soon I noticed a path to the side of the road. I assumed this was the old road and would take me to Portree but keep me off the A87. It wasn’t super busy, but neither was it the empty single track roads which I’d become accustomed to over the last 2 days. I clambered over to the path and set off, enjoying my new found solitude. 

Before long however, the path had turned into this:


Not ideal. By now I was a fair distance from the main road so I had to keep going, making my slow progress through the bracken. Soon enough I came across a road; not the road I wanted, but close enough. I followed the road as it climbed up before darting down to Portree. Time for lunch / mid afternoon snack / excuse for some cake. 

The road from Portree to my campsite at Sligachan was straightforward enough; a long gradual climb to the moor before darting down to the river. I arrived just as the ominous clouds to my left burst open. 



Proper campsite with proper showers and a proper pub selling over 400 different proper whiskeys. And thanks to all that weather (which believe it or not is still affecting ferry sailings to / from Mull and Barra), I’m a day early so I could spend 2 nights here…







Comments

  1. AnonymousSeptember 11, 2024 at 9:14 PM

    Tailwind, sleep on ferry, more tailwind then two days of whisky soup. Isn't it great when a plan, even a plan B, comes together.

    ReplyDelete
  2. AnonymousSeptember 12, 2024 at 7:05 AM

    Amazing. Well done

    ReplyDelete

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